


An Act Of Creation

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [25]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Nephilim Wings, Birth of a Nephilim, Celestial Biology, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Married Deckerstar, Pregnancy, SO MUCH FLUFF, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer prepare for the birth of their child. In other words, they are in uncharted territory.





	1. T Minus Five Months

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the beginning of the next story arc.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading the previous parts of this series, for liking it, for commenting, for giving me kudos. I hope you'll like this part as well.

 

“So,” Lucifer said, smiling softly but with a definite hint of imp, “where would you like to go now, my love?”

They were standing side by side on the beach of Lucifer’s island, having just witnessed their last wedding guest leave. His siblings had gladly obliged with helping to get the humans back to their respective homes, something that would have been inconceivable just two weeks ago. But, just like their brother, even the most standoffish Celestials hadn’t been immune to the charms of the humans at close quarters, and Chloe was pretty sure that at least one or two unlikely friendships between angel and human had been forged during the past three days of uninterrupted revelry.

Oh man, the scenes had had taken place here. Pity that the Almighty had bailed so early.

Now, only the two of them were left, plus about half a dozen of Lucifer’s personnel who would be taking care of the aftermath. Chloe didn’t envy them. The place was a battlefield.

“Go?” she echoed stupidly.

Lucifer gave her a brilliant smile. “Our honeymoon.” He made an expansive gesture. “The world’s our oyster. We can go wherever you’d like.”

She realized that it was literally true. Transit from the States to this island (whose location or name she still didn’t hadn’t cared enough to ask) had only taken a few seconds. On angel’s wings, even places clear on the other side of the planet were only a heartbeat away. And yet. “I’ll be happy wherever you are,” she said, not caring how sappy that sounded. It was true, after all. Also, she’d just survived a three day party, and she was still riding the coattails of an endorphin high from excellent sex. All of which warranted being a little sappy. And, oh yeah, she was pregnant.

She was pregnant. Unlike the first time, where the knowledge had broadsided her months after the fact, she’d now known since the very moment of conception. She could feel the warmth of the new half-celestial life growing in her belly even now; a constant and soothing companion.

The Devil beamed at her. “We could always just stay here. Or we could make a quick round trip. Breakfast on Ayers Rock. Lunch on a nice summit in the Himalayas. An afternoon nap in a tropical lagoon. And dinner in Paris, or New York, or Tokyo. Or back home, if you prefer.”

She looked up at him. How was she supposed to remain sane, or even moderately, reasonably grounded, when he kept tempting her like that, with all that he was and could do?

He seemed to at least sense her reluctance. “No? Well then, tell me what you desire.”

“I desire,” she intoned, turning so she could face and embrace him, the Devil, her husband, “to have some peace and quiet after all this partying. Can we just go home and, I don’t know, watch a movie with Trixie?”

“Of course,” he said readily with a quick glance down before giving her a radiant smile.

“Really? You’d be content with just that?”

“Of course,” he said again. “Like you, I’ll be happy to just be with you, no matter where we might find ourselves.”

She thought she knew which way the wind was blowing, though; his brief glance downward had been very telling. He was about to put himself last in everything now, just because she was carrying his child. Sometimes (okay, often), she didn’t know what to do with him. But fortunately, she had by now learned to speak his language.

“Lucifer,” she said, raising her hands to frame his face and stroke his temples, “let’s make a deal, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, eyes shining with pride. “I’m all ears, my Consort.”

Right. She _was_ the Devil’ Consort, about to make a deal with the Devil. (And she also was the future mother of what some might call the Antichrist.) What was that bit about staying sane or grounded again?

She cleared her throat. “For every time you go along with something just for my sake, you’ll allow me to go along with something else for your sake. Deal?”

He canted his head to one side. “What if your preference and mine coincide? Will that count as ‘going along’?”

Since her hands were already in the vicinity, she threaded her fingers into his hair and gave it a gentle pull. “I’m talking about compromising, as you very well know, silly Devil. Stop negotiating and say it.”

He opened his mouth, but she overrode him.

“And promise me that you won’t go finding any loopholes.”

His mouth closed, which told her everything she needed to know, so she gave his hair another pull. “Luce.”

At that, he grinned. “Very well, my love. We have a deal. Please note that I’m going along with this for your sake, so you now owe me a deal that you go along with for mine.”

She rolled her eyes, but she supposed she should have known. “If you trick me into a deal that somehow negates the one we just made, I swear I’ll make you sleep on the couch.”

His grin turned even wider. “Barely married for seventy-two hours, and already threatened with banishment from the matrimonial chamber. I’m clearly doing this right.”

Okay. How, she wondered, was anyone supposed to keep a straight face to that?

He watched her giggle and slowly fold in on herself with a mixture of smugness and confusion. “It wasn’t _that_ funny,” he finally said.

“I love you so much,” she said helplessly.

His expression dissolved into that look of soft adoration that made him look almost unearthly. He said nothing. He simply bent down to kiss her.

She kissed him back, and when the kiss ended, she said against his mouth, “Don’t think you’ll get to weasel out of our deal by being adorable, though.”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Chloe said days later, sitting next to Lucifer on her couch back at her apartment, “what happens now?”

Raphael, on the chair opposite, put her cup down, licking her upper lip. To Trixie’s delight, the angel had developed a strong liking for chocolate milk. She sighed. “No one knows exactly.”

Chloe looked from her to Lucifer and back at the healer. “What? I thought Nephilim were common enough to warrant official bans from God.”

“I only ever met the Nephilim once they were slain,” Lucifer shrugged. “Ephraim being the single exception. Asking about the circumstances of their birth was never a high priority in Hell. The only thing of importance about them was their parentage.” He raised one arm to allow Trixie to get more comfortable as she was snuggled against his side. “And before you ask, Sachiel doesn’t know, either. He wasn’t there for the first pregnancy, and the second, well.”

“Never came to term,” Chloe finished his sentence, not without compassion. She didn’t want to imagine what that was like, what it had been like for Sach.

“We do know that Ephraim’s mother was in no way harmed by giving birth to a half-celestial,” Raphael said matter-of-factly. “She even was able to bear human children afterwards. And there is no record of mortality of newborn Nephilim whatsoever. They have their grace to protect them. That grace may even affect their mothers while they are in their womb. So all in all, I’d say with reasonable certainty that you have nothing to worry about, Chloe.”

“That’s a relief,” Chloe said. She hadn’t been worried, exactly. She’d just been…. Okay, she’d been worried. A little bit. After all, there were _stories._

“So, I’m definitely getting a sister?” Trixie piped up. “Or a brother?”

“A brother, in all likelihood,” Raphael confirmed. “All the Nephilim on record have been male.”

“Cool!” Trixie smiled her radiant smile. “Will he have wings? Will he be able to turn into a devil, like Lucifer?”

“Why on earth would he want that, child?” Lucifer asked, baffled.

“Because it’s cool! He’d be like a werewolf, only he could change at will. Whenever someone’s mean to him, he could just turn into a devil and scare them off.”

Lucifer stared at her with the same flabbergasted look in his eyes.

Chloe, smiling, nudged him. “It _is_ cool, you know.”

The Devil smiled back at her, but he didn’t look convinced. Chloe silently promised him that she’d try her best to bring him round to her point of view tonight, when they were alone.

“So, will he?” Trixie didn’t let up.

“No one knows,” Raphael said with a visible effort not to look amused. “With humans, attributes acquired after birth aren’t passed on to the next generation. Like if you have a scar, your children won’t inherit that scar from you. Lucifer’s true form is scarred --”

“But that’s not all,” Lucifer interrupted.

“But that’s not all,” Raphael echoed, “as I was about to explain.”

“Well, get on with it, then.”

“Luce,” Chloe reprimanded him with a glance at Trixie, “don’t be rude.”

He looked at her, grinning unrepentantly. “I wasn’t being rude, I’m saving us time. Raph will lecture for hours without getting to the point if we don’t keep her on track.” He looked at his sister. “No one cares about humans and their genetics, fascinating as this is to you. The point is --”

“The point is,” Raphael interrupted him in turn, “Celestials have a measure of control over their appearance. You can call it a glamour, but it is a bit more than that. It can be fluent, like in Luci’s case, who can choose to reveal only certain aspects of his true form. The look of his eyes wasn’t caused by the burning; he willed them into being like that himself. All of us can hide our wings. Celestials who never visit the earthly plane remain pure energy and never learn to acquire a glamour.”

Trixie frowned. “What does all that mean? Will my brother be a ball of light with wings? Will he look like Mom? Will he have eyes like Lucifer’s?”

“He will probably be born with a human form that will take after your mother at least somewhat. But as for the Celestial part of his heritage…. You’ve noticed that, even though we’re siblings, Lucifer and I don’t really look alike, or like Amenadiel?”

Trixie nodded. “I’ve wondered why that is.”

“It is because celestial genetics don’t follow the same rules that the human version does. We were each made the way our Father wanted us to be, inside and out. We were shaped by Him. This won’t be the case for your brother, Beatrice. For one thing, he’ll be half human. Also, in a way, he will be able to influence his looks and his being. Not consciously. But his character and the people he is surrounded with growing up will have an impact on his appearance and his mindset.” She smiled apologetically. “It’s hard to explain. We’re not constant, like you are.”

Chloe nudged the Devil. “Yes, Lucifer’s changed a lot since we met him. Haven’t you noticed, Monkey?”

Her little girl looked up at her stepdad from where she was snuggled up to him. “No, Mom. He’s the same pedophobic, emotionally constipated funny guy he’s always been.”

“I do beg your pardon, Spawn.”

Trixie giggled.

“I am not funny,” Lucifer intoned, making even his serious sister smile.

“No,” Chloe agreed, mock-severely. “Totally un-funny.”

“But you didn’t disagree with the rest,” Trixie said triumphantly. “So,” she turned back to Raphael, “when will my brother be born? Nine months from now, like a human baby?”

“I can only make an educated guess,” the angel admitted. “But I’d say earlier than that. Human pregnancies only last this long because newborn humans are so fragile and helpless. Preterm human babies are unable to survive on their own. Humans need this long gestation period just to be able to breathe properly when they are born. This won’t be the case with a Nephilim. He’ll be viable after five months or so, so he’ll want out of Chloe’s womb by that time to do the rest of his development in the air.”

“‘In the air’?” Trixie echoed, wide-eyed, probably picturing a winged ball of energy hovering above ground.

“As opposed to in the water of the womb,” Raphael clarified. “We’re creatures of the air, we do not like the water very much. The celestial part of him will want out as soon as possible.”

“Five months?” Chloe repeated, one hand on her belly. The spot of warmth she could feel in her center was constant if very tiny. She remembered her pregnancy with Trixie; the last four months had certainly been uncomfortable. She’d gladly do without feeling like an ungainly rhino this time around. “That doesn’t sound bad.”

“His creation would be instantaneous if it weren’t for his human heritage,” Raphael went on, nodding at Lucifer. “Each of us was made within seconds of one another. Amenadiel only is the eldest by a few minutes.”

“ _Heavenly_ minutes,” Lucifer interjected. “Several days on Earth, actually.”

Chloe shook her head. As used as she was getting to the whole celestial deal she found herself in, some things still were hard to wrap her head around.

Then she felt something move in her gut, literally move, and she froze. “Uh,” she said intelligently.

Immediately, Lucifer turned to her. “Are you all right, my love?”

“Fine,” she said, distracted, gently pressing her hand down onto her lower belly. Yep, definitely moving. “It’s only been a week,” she said, looking at Raphael. “He can’t be moving already, right?” Apparently, she’d already accepted her unborn child’s gender as a fait accompli.

Lucifer, eyes wide, placed his warm hand on top of hers, while Trixie tried to wriggle past him to get to her mother’s side and do the same.

“Actually,” Raphael said, head canted to one side thoughtfully, “I think this is a good time for him to start moving.”

“But it’s only been a week!”

Raphael smiled. “He’ll be out and about in four months and three weeks, Chloe. He’s on a schedule. And so are you. Time for you to start building his nest.”

Chloe looked at Lucifer. “Holy guacamole. You ready for this, partner?”

Lucifer, eyes wider than ever, mouth slightly open, stared at her. Then he slowly shook his head.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not going on maternity leave this early, Lucifer,” Chloe said. “I’m pregnant, not ill. And please. I know this is hard for you. But please, stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”

Lucifer gave her a tight look, then nodded. “Very well. I am going along with you in this. Then, please, as per the terms of our deal, go along with me and at least stick to desk work from now on.”

“But I’m fine! I’m only a month along! I’m not even showing yet!”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, expelling an unused breath. “I just….” He gestured helplessly. “I just find the thought of you in danger now even more unsettling than I did before. Please, my love. It’ll only be for a few weeks.” He brightened. “I’ll even help with paperwork.”

She looked at him, at his earnest eyes, and found she couldn’t refuse him. Her native need for independence might be seething at the concept, but Lucifer was apparently developing unexpected paternal instincts, and who was she to suppress them?

“Okay,” she said, “we’ll compromise - desk work for me. I won’t go so far as make you do actual paperwork, but I’d be glad to have company.”

He beamed. “Make use of me as you see fit, my Consort.”

He was probably hoping for makeout sessions between the file cabinets, if she knew her Devil. And if she knew herself, she wouldn’t mind. Maybe this whole desk work thing wouldn’t be so bad.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe came home from work another week later, she set foot into organized chaos.

At least, she hoped it was organized. Rough wooden planks were leaning against one wall. Long reed vines lay curled in a bag. An opened toolbox stood off to the side. And Trixie and Lucifer were nowhere in evidence.

She could hear their voices from upstairs, though. Dreading what she would find, she made her way to the upper floor. As had happened today several times before, when she was even a bit physically active, the tiny being inside her would become more lively as well. _You like that, huh?_ she thought at him as she reached the landing. _I can tell already that you’re going to be a handful._

“How’s this?” Lucifer was saying. From the direction of his voice, he must be in her - in their - bedroom.

“Awesome!” came Trixie’s approving voice.

‘This’ turned out to be a thick board made of polished wood, octagonal, about a yard in diameter. Lucifer was holding it out in front of him while Trixie lounged on the bed, a delighted expression on her face that dissolved into an even wider smile when she noticed her mother. “Hi, Mommy!”

“Welcome home, my love,” Lucifer added. “I hope you have a hankering for lasagna; there’s some in the oven.”

“What’s going on?” Chloe asked, ignoring the lasagna bit even as her stomach started growling.

“We’re building a nest for my brother,” Trixie informed her.

“Hmm,” Chloe said, trying to put all her skepticism into that sound. “I thought I had asked you two to look online for baby cribs.”

“And we did that,” Lucifer put in. “However --”

“They’re for human babies, Mom,” Trixie picked up. “They’re way too narrow. He won’t have any room for his wings.” She spread her arms out to her sides to demonstrate. “His bed needs to be round.”

“And I categorically refuse to make my son spend his first few weeks in a dog basket,” Lucifer added, “which seems to be the only commercially available alternative. Besides, he won’t like being down on the floor.”

Chloe decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he must have been a newborn angel once. Knowing all the things he was capable of, the thought that he might remember this far back wasn’t too strange. “Okay,” she said. “So, what’s the plan?”

He held the board out again at the height of his hips. “This will get a base of some sort so it’s a bit off the floor. I was thinking this high. And then I’ll make a basket to go on top of it.”

Chloe looked at the board where he was holding it three feet above the floor and cringed. “That’s a long way down for a newborn, Lucifer.”

“He’ll be at least as invulnerable as Ephraim is,” he reminded her. “Besides, when he’s coordinated enough to climb out of the basket, he’ll be coordinated enough to use his wings to break his fall.” He grinned. “We used to do a lot of falling off things back in the Silver City when we were small fledglings. A _lot.”_

Trixie sighed happily. “I wish I could have been there,” she said wistfully. “How old were you when you learned how to fly?”

He put the board down. Chloe could see that there was an elaborate intarsia worked into the polished surface; it looked like a pentagram surrounded by what looked like Enochian letters. “I hope you didn’t buy this from the Satanists,” she said, half-joking, before Lucifer could answer Trixie’s question.

“Oh no,” Lucifer said loftily, “those frisbee-lobed miscreants wouldn’t know a proper Celestial symbol of protection if it walked up and asked them for a light. I made this. Just now, before you walked in.”

Chloe looked around. There was no woodworking equipment in sight, or any shavings on the floor - fortunately; this was their bedroom, after all. “You made…?”

“From the wood downstairs. I bought some raw material to avoid messing with the physical plane too much, and transmutation takes too much energy, so I’m just turning wood into another version of wood.”

Her face must have shown her incomprehension, because he went on, “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Trixie sat up, looking expectant. “Watch this, Mommy. It’s really cool.”

He held his hands in front of him, cupping something invisible. Next thing Chloe knew, a bright light filled the room, clearly originating from the place between Lucifer’s hands. He moved them up and down, and a dark shape emerged. The light faded, revealing an octagonal pedestal, made of dark polished wood, like the board.

“Wow,” Chloe said weakly. This was how he had made the stars, she realized. An act of creation, right here, in their bedroom.

“Put some symbols on it,” Trixie said, clearly not as awed as Chloe.

“What symbols?” Lucifer said indulgently.

“Uh… our names! In angel script. On three sides. Leave one side blank for my brother’s name, when we have it.”

“Very well, Child. What do you think, Chloe?”

She forced her brain to get with the program. “I think it’s a great idea, Monkey.”

Fifteen minutes later, the Nephilim crib was finished, adorned with Celestial letters and complete with a wide, intricately woven basket filled with a soft blanket and some pillows. Lucifer had taken a couple of minutes to construct the basket, muttering about basket weaving being one of his weaker subjects in angel school. Neither Chloe nor Trixie believed a word of it.

They stood around it, regarding it critically.

“Looks fine to me,” Chloe finally ventured. Then her stomach growled. Almost at the same time, she felt the baby kick. “Ow.”

Lucifer gave her a worried glance. “What is it?”

She put a hand on her belly. “Nothing, just His Grace reminding me to eat. Did I hear someone say something about a lasagna…?"


	2. T Minus Three Months

Chloe was hot, and by that she meant she felt hot, nearly all the time now. The small but rapidly growing heating unit in her belly contributed to a lot of it, and her chronically touch-starved Devil husband whom she could never refuse his daily cuddling provided the rest.

Take right now. They had just gone to bed, this time in the penthouse. Lucifer’s head, currently red-skinned and sans hair and eyebrows, rested on Chloe’s now slightly swollen belly, one ear directly on top of the place where she could feel the slow writhing movements of their son in her womb, and the warmth emanating from both of them was making her sweat. She had her hands on his face, one on his forehead and one cupping his skull, stroking him, while he hummed softly in appreciation. His humming seemed to be petering out; he was about to fall asleep like that, curled up sideways on the bed and swathed in the duvet, one arm draped across her in a loose hug.

She kept going, gently running her fingertips over the landscape of his face, its high cheekbones, prominent brow, rough scars and smooth red skin, until he stopped humming from one breath to the next and went quiet, eyes closed, breathing slowly and evenly. Only then did she still her gentle caresses and settled down, ready to follow him into sleep and hoping she’d be able to, despite the two ovens that were suffusing her with their heat.

She’d barely begun to nod off when a sharp burst of movement inside her startled her awake again. Lucifer, attuned to her every mood, immediately opened his eyes, revealing their soft glow.

Chloe chuckled. “His Grace doesn’t like it when his music’s turned off,” she whispered.

“Demanding little spawn, but I approve,” Lucifer returned, placing his head back down. He blinked, smiling. “Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll keep him entertained.”

She closed her eyes, then opened them again as a thought struck. “Shouldn’t he start developing normal sleep patterns by now?”

“You’re asking me?” Lucifer briefly turned his head to kiss her belly. “I’ve never developed normal sleep patterns myself. I come from a place that doesn’t even have day and night.”

“Oh.” She put her hands back onto his face, and the twin reddish lights winked out as his eyes closed in bliss. “That actually explains a lot about you.” She watched his lips stretch into a smile. Meanwhile, the tiny life inside her lodged another complaint about the lack of devilish humming. “Ow.”

“I felt that,” Lucifer maveled. “I could actually feel.... This is….” He faltered.

She knew exactly what he meant. Intellectual knowledge had just become tangible fact for him, just like it had for her when she’d felt the first movements. “This is our son, Lucifer,” she said softly. “He’s real.”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Linda said, adjusting her position on her chair, “how is married life treating you?”

Lucifer didn’t even try to suppress the grin that spread over his face as he settled back on his therapist’s couch. “I can say with confidence that nothing has ever treated me better.” And that included every nice thing that had happened to him during his long life, which wasn’t saying much, granted. But still.

She put on her ‘let’s find something for you to think about’ face. “This is an enormous change, though. The Devil has married a human, has  _ bound himself to _ a lowly human.”

He bristled at this slight to his beloved. “She’s not --”

Linda cut him off with the skill of a surgeon. “Beautiful ceremony, by the way.”

“Thank you?” What was happening?

“Uh. So, how does that make you feel now? Being married?”

Confusing as this was, he had long since learned that it paid off for him to go along with her, even if he generally didn’t understand why she asked the things she asked. “Deliriously happy with a touch of surrealism,” he obediently tried to put his feelings into words.

She did one of her adorable bird impressions by putting her head to one side. “Like you need to pinch yourself to check if you’re really awake, huh?”

He smiled. Close, but no cigar. “Like I need to check whether I’m in the correct universe and haven’t usurped another Lucifer’s rightful place,” he clarified.

“I see.” She returned his smile with a thoughtful look. “‘Another’s  _ rightful _ place’. You’re feeling undeserving? Like this is not something you’ve got a right to?”

He scoffed. “Well, of  _ course _ I’m not deserving of any of this.” He shook his head. Wasn’t it obvious? “I may not deserve the rap the Devil gets among you humans, but this…. This is on a whole other level of…. What am I trying to say?”

“I don’t know, what  _ are _ you trying to say?”

Oh, so it was going to be one of those sessions where she going to let him flounder in the fathomless ocean of feelings. He gave her a look that she returned with a grin. “Anyway,” he resumed, grasping at the single straw he could define, “I’m happy. That’s another thing I can say with confidence.”

She nodded. “So, what’s changed? Or, what is still changing for you?”

He schooled his expression into something bland to cover the excitement he was feeling. “Nothing much, except for….” He looked down at his ring whose stone was still blissfully white. The sight never failed to give him a thrill. Chloe loved him, still. The ring told him so. “... Knowing, I suppose.”

“Oh yes,” Linda said, “certainty’s a wonderful thing.”

“And also,” he added casually, “I’m going to be a father.”

Her double take was beautiful, and then her mouth fell open even more beautifully. “Really? That’s fantastic! Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He could feel himself grin and did nothing to suppress this one, either.

“Looking forward to meeting your child?”

“Very much so.”

“When is Chloe due?”

“Three months and one week from now.” He saw her surprised expression. “It’s a Celestial thing, apparently. Raphael thinks he’ll be ready to be born much sooner than a human spawn would.”

“So it’s a boy, then?”

“All the known Nephilim were or are male, so, yes.”

She was looking at him in that way she had when she expected him to say something specific.

He looked back at her. “What?”

“Well, you’ve voiced your general aversion to children many times before. But not only have you married Chloe, a mother with a child, but you’ve also fathered another child. Any thoughts about that?”

He shrugged. “What can I say? Beatrice is actually tolerable. We’ve become accustomed to one another, the small human and I. As for my son, he’ll be different from human spawn. I’ll be on much firmer ground with him.”

“But he’ll be half human. Won’t that make a difference?”

“I suppose,” he admitted, “but half human isn’t fully human. Besides, that human half will be Chloe’s.”

“So, you’re unreservedly looking forward to it.”

She was obviously trying to make him say that he was having second thoughts, and he supposed he couldn’t blame her. He’d been vocal about his aversion to human spawn, and, yes, also about the general idea of procreation. Yet, here he was. “Yes, I am. Unreservedly.” Something niggled at the back of his mind, so he added, truthful as always, “Well, I suppose I’m also a bit wary because I haven’t the first clue about what to expect except for some very nebulous ideas, but I’ll have Chloe to helping me, and her daughter’s been at that age not too long ago and should remember what it was like.”

Her expression told him that he’d said something stupid. “We usually can’t remember farther back than, say, being four years old,” she told him with that ‘you silly Devil’ tone of voice that he should take offense to but never did because he liked her so much.

This was indeed new information, though. “You can’t? What are you using your minds for at that age, then?” Well, he supposed it made sense. “It does explain why humans take that long to become verbal, let alone continent. You’re simply not firing on all cylinders.”

She gave him an amused smile. “I must say, for someone who battles with feelings of inadequacy, sometimes you sound incredibly condescending.”

This offered him a host of possible comebacks, from ‘what can I say, I’m full of contradictions’ to ‘all part of my charm’ or ‘admit it, you love that about me’. He settled for, “Thanks to you, dear Doctor, I’ve become aware of my shortcomings. And of my better qualities.”

She chuckled at that. “Right. I’m concluding from what you’ve said, though, that your son won’t take so long to ‘become verbal’ and ‘continent’.”

“He shouldn’t, yes. Well, unless his human half decides to be awkward about it. Actually, that’s probably something I can ask Ephraim about. I suppose he still remembers his early days.”

“That’s a great idea,” she praised, which made him feel better than it should. He was putting altogether too much stock into what these humans thought about him, but he had gotten used to it. They were family, of sorts, after all.

“So,” Linda added, “if you do find that you’re out of your depth, know that you can always come to me for another perspective.” She smiled. “Or, you know, if you need a sitter.”

Privately, Lucifer thought that, what with his son being a half-celestial, Linda was only 50 % qualified to be a sitter, but he said nothing. After all, he himself was 100 % disqualified, unless he somehow managed to get in a crash course in parenting during the time that was left. Aloud, he said, “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

* * *

 

“A little higher up, and a bit more pressure,” Raphael said.

Chloe obligingly moved her hand up along the angel’s left wing and pushed her fingertips more firmly into the plumage. “Okay,” she said, feeling her way, “I think I found it.”

“That’s the shoulder joint. It often gets dislocated in fledglings when they fall and don’t manage their landing properly. That’s not a problem, though; the tissues are still flexible and the bones won’t break that easily anyway.” Raphael went on to explain what Chloe should do then to reset the joint, concluding with, “Or you can just call me.”

“That’s… what I’ll do, then,” Chloe said. The thought of futzing about with her son’s tiny downy wings was daunting. “So you’re saying he’ll start falling out of the nest before he can walk?”

“Fledgling angels begin to exercise their wings as much and as often as they do their other limbs quite early on, and they are fearless about heights. I don’t know about fledgling Nephilim, for obvious reasons, but I expect they’re similar. So, yes. He’ll start crawling about as soon as he manages to roll over.”

Chloe nodded, then put a hand onto her belly as she felt another kick. “He’s active. I don’t remember Trixie moving around that much, not even when she was near due.” A thought struck. “Should we, I don’t know, make an ultrasound? See if everything’s okay?”

Raphael turned, shrugging her wings away. “That’s what humans do, I know. Human fetal development is so fragile that something going wrong is a valid fear. But Chloe, you have no reason to worry. Your son has angelic grace. What’s more, he’s got his grace from an Archangel. He’s much less vulnerable than you are. Even if you died now, he’d still live for hours.”

Chloe shuddered. “Thank you for that thought. So, no ultrasound?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Raphael said, kicking off her shoes and pulling her legs up onto the couch. “It’s not necessary, and it’s too loud, anyway. His hearing is probably already functional.”

“Huh. Okay.” Chloe filed away the factoid that Celestial hearing apparently extended into the ultrasound spectrum as she made herself comfortable as well.

The angel watched her, a curious expression on her face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… fine. Really fine.” Now that she was thinking about it, this did seem extraordinary. “I mean, no morning sickness so far. No pains, no discomfort. Not even a headache. I’ve never felt better.”

Raphael nodded. “Like you feel when Lucifer touches you with his wings.”

“Yes! Exactly!”

“Only now, that touch is inside of you. It’s divinity at work.”

Chloe grinned. “Well, if that’s the case, then being with a Nephilim child is much more pleasant than a normal pregnancy. When I was pregnant with Trixie, I actually had to request some sick days. Ten out of ten, would definitely recommend.”

The angel’s politely curious expression did not change.

Chloe resolved to expose her to human culture more so she could get these references. “I’ve been having some unusual cravings, though. Aversions, too.” She touched her belly. “He’s definitely telling me what he does and doesn’t like.”

“You should heed it, whatever the craving,” the healer said. “Remember, nothing you eat or drink can really harm him, and he may need very specific nutrients at one point or another.”

“So, I can drink all the red wine and eat all the rare steaks I want?” Chloe asked incredulously. This went against everything she’d ever learned about pregnancy diets.

“Absolutely. Oh, and that reminds me. I’ll bring you some manna for when you start breastfeeding. He’ll need his milk with a bit more, uh, ‘zing’ to it, I believe is the expression.”

That was when Chloe realized that there were only about three months left until the due date. Time was flying. Maybe they should start discussing names. “Raphael,” she said, “if it’s at all possible, I’d be happy if you were there for the birth.”

That earned her a surprised look. “Of course, Chloe. I had planned on it.”

“Oh. I mean, I’ll also ask my old midwife who was there for Trixie’s birth, but….”

“This is an important event for us as well - the birth of the first Nephilim created with Father’s consent and with full knowledge on the mother’s part since the beginning of time. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel much better.”

The healer reached out and put her small, brown-skinned hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “Everything will be fine, Chloe. Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

“‘Balthazar’,” Trixie suggested, her eyes on the display of her phone.

Lucifer threw a Cool Ranch Puff at her. “Can we stop it with the Biblical names, Spawn? That’s so old school it isn’t funny.”

Trixie giggled. She always had a ball when her step dad acted like a child. “Nebuchadnezzar? Solomon? Elijah? Barachel?” She took cover as the Puffs ricocheted off her.

“‘Chloe’ is a Biblical name, too,” Chloe remarked mildly. “So is ‘Lucifer’.”

“I like ‘Bartimeus’,” Trixie said from behind the pillow she was holding in front of her head. “It means ‘son of the honorable’, and that’s very fitting.”

“No son of mine is going to go by ‘Bart’,” Lucifer objected. “But I appreciate the compliment.”

“He’s a half angel, Lucifer,” Chloe put in. “A Biblical name isn’t that farfetched. And while we’re at it, what are your suggestions?”

“I was thinking ‘John’, after your dad,” Lucifer said, earning himself her undying gratitude. “And before you say it, I know that’s a Biblical name as well.”

“Everyone and their dog is named ‘John’,” Trixie remarked, lowering the pillow and beginning to collect and eat Lucifer’s projectiles. “‘John the Nephilim’. ‘John Morningstar’. Nope. Sorry, Mom.”

Chloe grimaced. She couldn’t really contest that.

“I suppose you’ve got a point, Spawn,” Lucifer allowed. “Right, your turn, my love.”

Chloe shrugged. “I like ‘Nathaniel’. He’s a gift from God, in a way, so it’s fitting.”

There was a pause while they tried that name out in their minds.

“It’s not that bad,” Lucifer allowed, while Trixie nodded judiciously.

“Wow, what, no objections? That’s the first name we’ve got a consensus for.” Chloe put it down, then looked up. “Uh, do we have any salmon?”

Lucifer rose, clearly used to this by now. “Raw, fried, or smoked?”

She blinked up at him. “Fried, if it isn’t any trouble? And, uh, plum butter?”

“Plum butter?” Lucifer echoed. “My, my. His Grace has eccentric taste.” He sketched a bow. “Give me half an hour.”

“‘Nathaniel’,” Trixie essayed as Lucifer sauntered out, possibly to obtain fresh salmon all the way from the North Sea. “‘Nathaniel Morningstar’.” She nodded at Chloe. “Yep, Mom, it’s cool.”

Which, Chloe supposed, was high praise indeed, and possibly the best she could expect. She stroked her belly, feeling the little half angel move underneath her hand. “Would that be agreeable to Your Grace?” she asked, only half jokingly. With everything she’d learned about Celestials, she wouldn’t be surprised if her unborn son were already able to understand her.

When nothing kicked against her palm, she nodded. “Seems it’s settled, then.”

Trixie grabbed the Cool Ranch Puffs bag that Lucifer had carelessly abandoned. “Awesome!”


	3. T Minus Ten... Nine... Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief birth defect scare. Consider your limits before reading.

When Chloe left Lieutenant Monroe’s office, having secured her maternity leave - to start less than a month from now, doesn’t time fly -, Dan headed her off as she made her way back to her desk. “Hey.”

She smiled at him. She felt good, she was happy; life was good. Even if half of that was due to divinity inside of her making her feel this way she was going to enjoy every minute of it. “Hey, Dan.” Then she noticed his tense expression. “What’s up?”

Dan sighed. “Not much; not yet anyway. But I think you should see this.”

Curious but still too happy to be worried, she followed him to his desk, where he pointed at his computer display. “Seems like someone put two and two together and ended up with five.”

The display showed an article of an online new publication headlined “LAPD Detective Chloe Decker Is The Mother Of The Antichrist” with the subtitle “The Apocalypse Is Really Happening This Time”.

“Oh, great,” Chloe muttered, scanning the article.  _ Following her marriage to the actual Devil… undisclosed location… eyewitnesses… unmistakable signs of pregnancy… birth of two-headed snake in San Diego Zoo… strange light phenomenon in the California sky at 7.06 (= 6.66!!!) am this morning… no other possible conclusion.... _ The article had been posted twenty minutes ago and already had close to a hundred comments.  _ “Fucking _ great,” Chloe amended as she read the first two that had been upvoted the most.  _ Someone should do something about this _ and  _ Why is the Vatican silent? _ Okay, this could get serious.

“This could escalate,” Dan voiced her thoughts. “Some of the comments are very, uh, disquieting. Far be it from me to tell you what to do, what with you being the Devil’s Consort and under his protection and all, Chlo, but I really think the two of you should lay low for a while, until this has blown over.”

“Ugh,” she commented. “I’m not gonna let these people think they can scare me, Dan, or that I’m ashamed.”

“It’s not that,” Dan objected. “Just imagine for a second what Lucifer’s gonna think about all this. Or do.”

At that, she couldn’t help nod. Dan was right. All this needed to get ugly was a group of religious zealots deciding to remove the problem, i.e. her, and Lucifer being Lucifer at them. She hadn’t really seen him get truly angry before, but a threat to her was sure to awaken his devilish temper.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll talk to him.”

 

* * *

 

To her surprise, Lucifer didn’t seem to be overly worried. “They’re humans,” he said, “doing what humans do - panicking in the face of the unknown. It’s been this way since forever. I’ll handle it if it does get out of control.”

“That’s kinda what I’m afraid of,” she admitted. “And you shouldn’t underestimate them. This isn’t the Middle Ages anymore where the worst you had to fear from them was pitchforks and fire.”

He scoffed.

“They tried to blow up Lux, remember?”

That one registered. He grew serious. “Right. If it makes you feel better, we can always relocate somewhere else until our spawn is born. I own any amount of properties, one or two of them even in very remote places.”

Underneath her amusement about the fact that he insisted on referring to their son as ‘spawn’, Chloe actually considered this option - going away from LA, seeking out the peace and quiet of the countryside, possibly even moving to another continent for the duration, or at least to some area where Christianity wasn’t as prevalent. It certainly had some merit, and it would remove the immediate problem elegantly.

While she pondered, Lucifer rose to replenish his guests’ drinks. Sachiel and Ephraim had come over to the penthouse for ‘a chat and a drink’, which, as Chloe had learned, was code for Celestial socializing. They all had their wings out, and the resulting abundance of feathered limbs necessitated lots of touching while they lounged close together on the floor, talking about anything and everything under this and countless other suns. Chloe always found these events incredibly soothing.

“You’re looking radiant, Chloe,” Ephraim told her softly, having given Lucifer a quick smile of thanks and taken a sip of his drink. “I hope you’re feeling as well as you look.”

“Thank you,” she said, “I do. I can’t believe I’m due already in three weeks or so. I certainly don’t feel like I did three weeks before Trixie’s birth.”

Ephraim gave her a slow, sad smile, but didn’t say anything.

Of course. Chloe mentally slapped her forehead. The Nephilim had killed his unborn half brother when he killed Maria, Sachiel’s human consort. Chloe could only imagine what he must be feeling now; hell, what Sachiel must be feeling now. He had lost not just his beloved, but another son. And Chloe was bringing it all back for them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, rising. “Maybe I should go. I’m ruining your party.”

At that, Sachiel looked up. “You’re not ruining anything, Chloe. What’s done is done.”

“But --”

“We all learn from our mistakes,” Ephraim said, softly and subdued, but sincerely. “But for that to happen, we must bear them in mind.” He smiled. “Looking at you reminds us also that life goes on. And more than that; a new era is beginning. That’s a good thing. We will take this, together with the bad memories.”

“Please, stay,” Sachiel added. “If we wanted to avoid the subject, we wouldn’t be here. Lucifer’s been talking about nothing else but the advent of his son even before you joined us.”

“Slight exaggeration, that,” Lucifer objected, elegantly sinking back down onto the floor, a full bottle and his glass in both hands. Feathers rustled as he settled his wings more comfortably on his back.

Undecided, she looked down at the feathery huddle; grey, dark brown, and white. She didn’t really want to leave them, but she knew this couldn’t be easy for them, no matter what they said.

Then Lucifer raised one wing slightly, inviting her to sit against him and underneath it, and that cinched it for her. Smiling, she sat back down and snuggled up against him, sighing in pleasure when his soft wing lowered to settle around her and fold her close to his warm body.

“So, three weeks?” Sachiel said, watching them cuddle with an affectionate gaze.

“Raph thinks so, yes.” Lucifer took a sip of his whisky.

“Nervous?”

The Devil scoffed. “Why would I be nervous?”

Sachiel winked at Chloe, knowing as well as she did that Lucifer evading a direct question usually was an answer in itself.

“Well,  _ I’m _ nervous,” Chloe admitted. “I don’t know what to expect. Nobody seems to know what to expect, exactly.” Lucifer’s arm around her tightened in reassurance, and she gave him a quick smile of thanks.

She pointed at her belly, still nowhere near the size it should be a few weeks before birth. “He’s going to be tiny, that’s all we can be sure of.” She found herself looking at Ephraim as she said this as if hoping that the only other Nephilim they knew of would somehow have the answers.

Ephraim seemed to catch her underlying meaning. “I can’t tell you how big I was, or how small,” he said, sounding far away as he tried to recall his earliest memories. “I remember sounds and smells. Warmth. The taste of skin. Soft touches. Being carried.” He frowned. “I remember a general sense of confusion.”

“Confusion?” Chloe echoed.

“Yes.” He frowned. “I was confused; it’s really the best word to describe it. But I don’t recall why, or what was so confusing. In any case, it ended, and after that I was carried and picked up and falling and picked up again, a lot. There was always someone there, watching me, and often it wasn’t my mother.”

He fell silent with an embarrassed smile, while Chloe tried to fill in these bits and pieces. That must have been about fifty years ago. A Nephilim born in the late 1960s would have had to spend his early years in hiding, probably under constant surveillance because no one knew what he was - including himself -, until he learned to hide his wings. Actually…. “How did you find out that you can hide your wings? I assume you had no one to tell you…?”

“No one needed to tell me.” As Ephraim shifted his position, he spread his gray wings before resettling them, a motion Chloe had seen often Lucifer do. Watching these winged beings just being themselves was becoming familiar and expected by now, so much so that normal humans were beginning to somehow look incomplete to her. “You don’t need anyone to tell you how to make a fist, either, or how to walk.”

“Or how to have sex,” Lucifer added.

“Exactly,” Ephraim continued, not fazed in the slighted by his uncle’s off-color remark. “Your body just knows. I had learned how to put them away long before I could fly properly.”

“When was that?” Chloe asked, fascinated.

“About the same time I could walk and talk. I remember that it had just become cold again outside, so, maybe when I was a year old? Certainly not much later than that.”

So, Chloe mentally summarized, she was in for having a tiny disaster falling off things for about a year. She supposed she could manage that, with a little help from her friends. Friends she wouldn’t have available if she and Lucifer fled from LA.

Meanwhile, Sachiel grinned. “Remember Uriel, Luci?”

Chloe could feel him tense, but there was no trace of it in his voice when he said, “Don’t I ever.”

“He was so small that we were all afraid of hurting him, even after he’d learned to fly,” Sachiel went on.

Lucifer’s body didn’t exactly relax at that, and Chloe decided it was time for a change of topic. “Maybe going away from LA isn’t such a good idea,” she said abruptly. “Linda and Ella and my mom and even Maze all volunteered for babysitting. We can’t very well expect them to make long journeys for that. Not to mention the logistics of Trixie going to school here while we’re far away.”

“That’s true,” Lucifer said. She could feel his gratefulness in the way he breathed out. “So, we stay. And, just to be sure, I’ll be attached to your hip from now on.”

“Even more so than you have been?” she joked, stretching her neck to kiss his jaw and feeling his wing pull her against him in response.

He didn’t reply except for briefly nuzzling her hair, which she took as a yes.

 

* * *

 

For the next three weeks, Chloe had to resign herself to the fact that the Devil was never far away. This was infinitely less threatening to her than it would have been to, say, the street preachers on Hollywood Boulevard. Quite the contrary; she felt safe and loved despite the growing number of online voices speculating or worrying about things they had no way of understanding. And whenever she ventured outside, for shopping or driving to the precinct or for taking Trixie to or from school, nobody ever said anything threatening or even slightly judging to her directly, which probably was also due to Lucifer looming close by and watching everyone who approached her with that unsettling, unblinking gaze he sometimes had.

She still came in to do some deskwork, always accompanied by her guardian Devil, but she had to admit that her efficiency was beginning to drop. The unborn life within her was becoming more active and more distracting by the day - and by the night. She was  _ so _ looking forward to teaching the little half devil the concept of naps, let alone several consecutive hours of sleep.

Lucifer, though, got an undeniable thrill out of putting his hand or his head onto Chloe’s belly and feeling his son’s movements, of testing how the baby responded to music, to his voice, to being gently prodded from outside. Like so many things about him, Chloe found this adorable, him bonding with his unborn child like this. She hoped it boded well for their future relationship.

Meanwhile, her midwife Sioana, who had delivered Trixie ten years ago, had been recruited for her half-brother’s birth and brought up to speed about the intricacies of this delivery. It had gone better than Chloe had expected.

“So,” Siona had said, “the baby will have wings?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’ll be severely underweight at birth, but that’s no reason to worry?”

“Right.”

“And since your husband’s the Devil….?”

“No, our son won’t be the Antichrist, Siona.”

“I was gonna ask about hooves and horns.”

“Oh. No, no hooves, no horns, no tail.”

“I see. Another midwife will be there, and she’s an actual angel?”

“Mmhm. Lucifer’s sister, Raphael. She’s a healer.”

“Right. So, what do you need me for, exactly?”

Chloe had explained how nobody knew exactly what being a half celestial would mean for her son, and that human expertise might be required at some point, in case angelic knowledge didn’t have all the answers. “And besides, you were there for Trixie, Siona. I want you there for my son as well.”

At that, the small, stout woman had beamed like the sun and put her hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Chloe, we’ll bring your son into this world all right, me and the angel. As long as everybody does what I say.”

 

* * *

 

They were just emptying the dishwasher when Chloe felt the baby move within her in a way he hadn’t done before. She froze and put a hand onto her belly, feeling the baby do  _ something  _ inside her and then grow quiet again.

Lucifer, in the process of taking out the cutlery, looked at her questioningly.

“Something’s happening,” Chloe said, taking a breath and listening inside herself. He was still now, but his weight had clearly shifted, now pressing down on her bladder. Was it time? It didn’t feel the same way it had with Trixie. Then again, everything was different this time around.

When she didn’t continue, the question mark in Lucifer’s expression got bigger.

“I’m not sure…” she began. Then she suddenly was very sure, because her water broke.  _ That  _ was a feeling she remembered. She looked at Lucifer, who stared back at her out of huge eyes. “It’s happening.”

He literally dropped everything, right back into the dishwasher, and put his hands together to call Raphael.

 

* * *

 

As births go, this one was a piece of cake.

For one thing, there was hardly any pain. Chloe had talked to Lucifer weeks ago, warning him of how she might cry or scream during labor, and how that was completely normal and not a reason for him to panic. She’d even made him promise not to interfere in any way when that happened, which probably hadn’t exactly reassured him. Turned out that she needn’t have put him through it in the first place, but how was she supposed to know how easy it was going to be?

For another thing, it was over practically as soon as it had begun. All she’d needed to do was breathe and push a little.

Now, barely two hours after her water had broken, she was lying in her bed, deliriously happy, listening to Nathaniel’s soft cries from the bathroom and smiling up at Lucifer, who was still looking shell shocked, while Siona and Raphael could be heard talking, out of sight but within earshot.

Then Lucifer broke through whatever had been going on with him to take her hand. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Fine,” she smiled. “Better than fine.”

Lucifer gave her one of his own radiant smiles.

“You?” she asked him.

“Perfectly fine. It’s just… You humans are so….” He gestured.  _ “Fascinating.” _

“I know!” Siona’s voice could be heard from the bathroom, where she and Raphael had brought the newborn for cleaning up and checking him over. “He was born after only five months, so it stands to reason that….” Then her voice became too soft to understand. Raphael’s deeper tones replied something, also unintelligibly.

“What’s going on?” Chloe asked, a frisson of worry shattering her cocoon of happiness. “Is everything okay with Nathaniel?”

“I think so,” Lucifer said. “I wasn’t listening. I’ll go find out.” Which turned out to be unnecessary, because Siona returned just then, holding the newborn wrapped in a blanket and with Raphael in tow.

Trixie chose that moment to disregard her instruction to stay outside and followed them into the bedroom, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asked. Siona was smiling; Raphael looked a little concerned, which was cause enough for Chloe to start to worry.

Siona, seeing her expression, beamed at her as she placed the tiny bundle in her arms. “You’ve got a boy, Chloe, all parts attached, including two I’m not familiar with, but apparently they’re the way they’re supposed to be. He’s breathing fine and responding to sounds.”

Chloe carefully parted the folds of the blanket to look at her son’s face, expecting two baby-blue eyes to look at her. Instead, Nathaniel’s eyes were closed and remained closed even as his tiny arms reached for her and his mouth gaped open in a soft cry.

“He’s perfectly healthy,” Raphael said, putting on the face of doctors everywhere who want to keep their patients from panicking. “Everything is the way it should be. He just won’t open his eyes --”

“Which is perfectly normal for a human infant five months after conception,” Siona added pointedly, “as I’ve been saying. The fetus will keep their eyes closed until week twenty-eight or so. That’s still a while to go for the little guy. He’ll open them when he’s good and ready.”

Raphael looked at her human counterpart and nodded thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. There’s no reason to worry, Chloe.”

_ Born blind, like a kitten, _ Chloe realized.  _ That’s what Ephraim must have meant when he said he was ‘confused’ for a while. _

Very carefully, because he was so tiny, she cradled her son to her breast, feeling his supernatural heat and automatically wrapping him in the blanket to keep him warm; an instinct the Devil had long since fostered in her with his hellish heat. Her worry dissolved; she could feel that everything was okay in the way Nathaniel moved and breathed and made tiny baby sounds.

And speaking of the Devil - Lucifer was standing where he had been standing all this time, staring down at his wife and his son with an expression of abject incredulity on his face. He barely moved when Trixie insinuated herself between him and the bed with Chloe in it.

“Mommy, are you okay? Is Nathaniel okay?” Trixie asked breathlessly. She leaned down to peer at the baby’s face. “Oooh, he’s beautiful!”

Chloe looked again, past the closed eyes, noticing the fine dark hair, the perfect shape of his skull, and couldn’t help but agree. She realized she was probably biased, but he was the prettiest baby she had ever seen.

“Luce…?” she said after a long moment of the Devil still not moving. “Are you okay?”

He looked back at her and nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just…. He’s so  _ tiny!” _

Chloe laughed in relief. It was true, too; Lucifer could probably fit his son into his large hands easily. It made him seem impossibly delicate and fragile.

Then, the newborn  _ rolled over _ on her chest and held on to her boob with both tiny hands, exposing his back with his short downy light gray wings briefly before Chloe wrapped him in the blanket again as he found her nipple without her guiding him to it. She supposed she should get used to him becoming coordinated enough to start falling off things much sooner than she’d expected.

“Well, congratulations, Chloe, Lucifer,” Raphael said. “The first fully sanctioned Nephilim has seen the light of day, not literally, but the point stands. What’s his name?”

Chloe tore her eyes away from her son. “Nathaniel. Morningstar.”

The angel smiled. “Welcome to the Earthly plane, Nathaniel Morningstar.” She looked back at Chloe. “I’ll bring the good news to the Silver City. Please let me know when you’re ready for visitors. I expect that everyone will want to see him at some point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who participated in my impromptu Twitter poll to help me decide on the color of Nathaniel's wings. <3


	4. All Systems Go

When everyone had gone - Trixie only leaving under protest and after heavy negotiations - and they were finally alone, Chloe could feel sleep closing in on her. Full-fed, Nathaniel had fallen asleep a while ago and was now a warm, softly breathing weight in the crook of her arm. He looked incredibly small and so delicate that he almost seemed translucent, and she badly wanted to follow him into dreamland.

But Lucifer still hadn’t moved from his spot in the middle of the room, so this was no time for her to sleep yet.

He had smiled vaguely at everyone as they said their goodbyes; he’d even said the right things at the right places, but through it all, he’d kept staring, from a distance, at the new life in Chloe’s arms as if scared to approach it.

She blinked up at him. “Lucifer.”

He unfroze and was there by her side immediately. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything? Raphael left a whole tub of manna --”

“I’m fine, and I’m not hungry,” she said, giving him a once-over. He didn’t seem as shell shocked as before, but she knew him well enough by now to tell that he was putting on a show for her sake.

Time to put on a show of her own. “I’d like to take a nap. Would you take him for a bit? I don’t want to make a wrong move in my sleep and accidentally hurt him.” With that, she carefully lifted and held their son out to the Devil.

“I….” He reached out his hands automatically, then froze.

Nathaniel made a small, unhappy sound, probably complaining about being taken out of his warm spot on her chest and being dangled in mid-air, so she put him back down and covered him with the blanket. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she asked Lucifer.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out.

“Come here,” she said, patting the side of the bed. “Sit down. Relax. Now tell me.”

He complied. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m  _ feeling  _ happy, and relieved, and….”

“Confused?”

“Yes! I mean, I want to hold him, but --”

“Then just do it,” she said gently. “I’ve seen you with Trixie. You’ll do great.”

He gave an explosive sigh.

Just then, Nathaniel made a questioning sound and raised his head, turning his face blindly towards Lucifer.

“He hears your voice,” Chloe said. “Yes, Nathaniel, that’s your daddy. He’s just a bit shy, but he loves you very much. Go on, Luce, take him.”

The baby Nephilim made another sound, this one clearly demanding, and raised one arm clumsily in the Devil’s direction.

Lucifer leaned forward, one hand extended, and touched one fingertip to his son’s tiny hand. “Nathaniel,” he said softly, which he then followed up with something in the musical Angelic tongue that contained the word ‘Lucifer’, and Chloe realized that he was formally introducing himself.

Celestials sure were a weird bunch, but for some reason, the thought was almost making her tear up (she blamed it on postpartum depression).

To her surprise, Nathaniel seemed to be listening, even frowning slightly as though trying to make sense of Lucifer’s words. Then he raised his other arm to close both tiny hands about Lucifer’s finger.

After that, the ice seemed to be broken. She raised her son up and away from her, and Lucifer slipped his large hand underneath the small body, neatly folding the tiny wings against his back, and expertly cradled him to his chest as if he’d done nothing else in his life.

 

* * *

 

Of course, the first night with their new baby Nephilim did not go the way Chloe had expected.

She had just put Nathaniel into his nest to sit down on her bed and kick off her slippers, feeling that strange mixture of happiness and exhaustion that comes with having given birth when she noticed Lucifer standing next to the pedestal, looking from her to the nest and back again. “What’s up?”

He sighed. “I….”

She took him in as he was standing there, back to looking hesitant, indecisive and confused. Once he’d gotten over his initial confusion and taken him, he’d held his son for the entire time she’d napped, showing none of the disdain she’d half expected from his oft-professed revulsion for small children, and he’d only reluctantly handed him back to her. And now, he seemed even more hesitant to leave him in his nest for the night.

It seemed like Nathaniel, barely five hours old, had already conquered the Devil’s heart without even trying, and the poor guy didn’t know or understand what had hit him.

“It’s okay, Lucifer,” she said softly, trying not to sound as amused as she felt at this evidence of paternal separation anxiety. “You can come to bed. He’ll be fine in there.”

He gave her a look full of entreaty. “But he’s so small. He’ll get cold, so all alone.”

She patted the bed beside her. “He’s swathed in pillows and blankets, he won’t get cold. Trust me. I know how you feel, but I’ve been through this before. He’ll be fine.”

He sighed again, explosively, and nodded. “Very well.”

They snuggled up together once the lights were out. Chloe could feel him shift to his true form as she held him, and she kissed the hot, smooth-tough skin next to her face the way she had done countless times.

“Are you okay, my love?” he asked softly.

“Yes. You really can stop asking me that. This delivery was a breeze compared to Trixie’s.”

His red-glowing eyes opened to blink at her. “I’ve seen and done many things in my eons, but witnessing the birth of a human spawn wasn’t one of them, until today. I had no idea it was so….”

She smiled into the darkness. “So what?”

There was a pause as he cast about for words. “... Messy,” he finally came up with. “Exhausting. Primal? You looked like you were in pain.”

“You should have seen me with Trixie, then. I was in labor for more than twelve hours. And that’s not even half the time of what some women have to go through.”

She could feel him shake his head. “It’s a wonder humans procreate at all.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” She chuckled softly. “If I ever get a quiet moment with your Dad, I’m so gonna ask Him what He was thinking when He designed us that way.”

They fell silent after that. Chloe was beginning to drift off when a small sound from the nest woke her up again.

Lucifer made an answering sound and sat up.

She grabbed hold of his arm to keep him in the bed. “Leave him, Lucifer. He needs to get used to being on his own.”

“But --”

“Trust me.”

She could hear him breathe as the soft glow of his eyes turned towards her. “I acknowledge your expertise, my love, I do. But I’ve been alone, in Hell, after being cast out of the celestial ‘nest’, if you will, and I can tell you that it felt awful. I was much older then. Nathaniel is too young to understand why suddenly no one is touching him anymore, or why it’s so silent. You heard him call for us just now. I can’t…. I’m sorry, I can’t leave him like this. Not while he can’t see.”

She opened her mouth to insist, then shut it again. Maybe her human expertise wasn’t sufficient. Maybe this wasn’t separation anxiety. Maybe Celestials, being a different species, had different needs. And just maybe Lucifer was developing the proper instincts for dealing with a half celestial, and she shouldn’t stifle them. “Okay,” she said, letting go of him. “I’ll go along with you on this.”

“Thank you.” The bed dipped as he left it. A happy baby gurgle told her that Lucifer had picked their son up. He said something in another language, something soothing and reassuring from the cadence of his voice, and then he settled back in the bed, cradling Nathaniel on his chest.

She rolled over so she could put one hand onto his face and caress him, still feeling no hair on his skull. “You’re gonna be such a doting daddy.”

He turned his Devil face into her touch. “I’ve been called much worse.”

“But you’re really earning this title.”

He hummed, not protesting.

From the height of his chest came a tiny answering hum.

They both chuckled at that. And then, when they fell silent this time, there were no more demanding baby sounds to disturb them.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe woke up in the middle of the night to have a drink of water, she found the bed full of white feathers enveloping her and Lucifer, who lay curled up around his son, facing her. In the gentle glow of his wings, she could clearly see Nathaniel lying face down in the crook of Lucifer’s arm, his tiny wings also glowing softly, one tiny fist closed around the Devil’s pinky finger, sleeping more soundly than he’d ever done while he was still inside of her.

 

* * *

 

By and large, Nathaniel was a happy baby.

He smiled whenever someone touched him. He smiled when he was picked up. He smiled when he heard voices. And he giggled whenever someone petted or groomed his wings.

His wings. Chloe still got a severe case of the ‘awww’s even thinking about them, and it didn’t seem like that would let up anytime soon. They were, like everything else about him, tiny. They were also so, so soft and downy. And they wiggled along whenever he wiggled his arms. Sometimes, when he lay on his stomach sleeping, they twitched in unison ever so slightly, and Chloe wondered whether he was already dreaming about flying.

Lucifer always placed his large hand clear across them to fold them to his son’s body when he picked him up. He had done so from the first time, never hesitating, seemingly never even thinking about it. He also talked to him like he expected him to understand every word, whether he used English or his native language.

Chloe would again have called him out on not knowing how to deal with newborn babies if it weren’t for the wings thing, and for the fact that he’d clearly been right about Nathaniel needing much more physical contact than a human baby would. Seemed like it really was her who didn’t know how to deal with newborn Nephilim, she realized, so she figured she’d better pick up some pointers.

After a whole day spent in childbed, she had finally risen, feeling an immense need to take an extended shower and to stretch her legs, and when she came back to their shared bedroom, she could hear Lucifer’s voice.

“No, what are you doing? That’s not…. Well, okay, I suppose you can  _ try  _ to eat it, but it’s actually a vestment. Be glad you can’t see it yet. You’re supposed to wear it, not eat it, even if it does look completely ridiculous. … On your whole body, not just on your head. … Stop spreading your wings like that, I can’t get it over your back that way. … Yes, much better. Excellent! Well done!”

And all the while, Nathaniel’s delighted giggles could be heard accompanying whatever Lucifer was doing.

“Well,” she said as she came into the room, “you two are clearly having fun.”

Nathaniel blindly turned his head towards her and crowed in response to her voice. He was half dressed, wiggling his tiny arms as Lucifer threaded them through the sleeves of his onesie (a gift from her mom, and as garishly bright as could be expected; it even had an angel on it).

“Well, that’s a relative term, my love. His Grace would rather be naked - he gets that from me, I suppose -, but a deal is a deal, so.”

Meanwhile, Nathaniel homed back in on the Devil’s voice and reached out one hand to grab his patrician nose.

Making no attempt to remove the tiny hand from his person, Lucifer snorted through the handhold, making the baby giggle.

Chloe blinked and looked again. “His wings are gone.”

At that, Lucifer grinned, looking almost as delighted as his son, who had finally let go. “Barely two days old, and already figured out how to access another plane of existence. This will make future games of hide-and-seek quite a challenge.”

“Huh.” She took a minute to think about that. Nathaniel vanishing to the Infernal plane where she couldn’t follow might indeed be a ‘challenge’. On the other hand, this innate skill might come in handy whenever the denizens of the Earthly plane decided to be a bother to the perceived Antichrist. “Right.” Once again, she decided to cross all these bridges one by one, if and when she reached them.

Lucifer straightened, cradling their son to his chest. “Now what? Wouldn’t want His Grace to have dressed for nothing.”

“Now we relocate to the sofa in the living room.”

Lucifer gave her an artfully shocked look and patted his pockets with his free hand. “You ask too much. I don’t have enough provisions for such an extended journey.”

Chortling, she walked out, followed by her Devil dork husband and the happily cooing Antichrist.

 

* * *

 

Chloe had developed quite a liking for manna. It was a tasty go-to food whenever she got ravenous and had either no time or no inclination to cook or heat anything. The Nephilim’s appetite was enormous, and what with breastfeeding him every two hours or so, she needed a steady intake to keep up.

At the same time, she was getting bored and couldn’t wait to get back to work.

Well, bored wasn’t the right word. There was certainly enough happening to keep her distracted. Watching Lucifer try to be a daddy alone was worth the price of admission. But she missed her work. It had been almost half a year now since she’d worked a proper homicide case.

“You’d have to leave him here, then,” Lucifer said when she mentioned the possibility of maybe coming in to the precinct for a few hours. “We shouldn’t bring him outside as long as his eyes are closed. You don’t leave your nest while you can’t see. Hearing all these new sounds with no context would be too confusing.”

Chloe supposed she should respect his insight.

She smiled down at him as he was lying on his back on the sofa with Nathaniel on his chest, running thumb and forefinger of both hands along the down feathers of each of the baby’s wings. He looked comfy; both of them looked happy right where they were. No reason to rock the boat just because she was getting a slight case of cabin fever.

Driving all the way to the precinct would probably be overdoing it, anyway. And if she knew herself, if anything remotely interesting came up, she’d probably stay there for longer than just a couple hours. Also, she’d be missing both her angels the entire time. And bringing Nathaniel in when he could see and properly respond to his surroundings, and watching every hardened cop in the Bullpen go gooey-eyed over him would be way more fun.

As she watched the movements of Lucifer’s fingers as he groomed and caressed the small Nephilim’s wings, she had a sudden and intense need. “You gotta show me how to do that,” she said impulsively.

By way of response, he shuffled himself closer to the backrest and patted the newly freed space beside him.

She sat, and he guided her hand and her fingers into the baby down and along one feathered limb. As she touched the hot skin underneath the down, she could feel tiny, hard pebbled nubs. “This feels strange,” she commented.

“Hmm?”

“Something under his skin.”

“Oh. That’s perfectly normal in a fledgling. Pin feathers waiting to grow in. They need to be ready by the time he opens his eyes.” He breathed a soft sigh. “Enjoy the peace and quiet now, my love. Once he starts using his wings, there’ll be no stopping him getting onto and into everything.”

She imagined the tiny half angel clinging to the ceiling lamp and gently soaring down off it. “Hmm. I’m kinda looking forward to it.”

Nathaniel made a sound of assent, and then another sound, this one with a definite demanding undertone.

Chloe chuckled. “I think His Grace requires his next meal.”

Lucifer opened his mouth.

“And before you say it, whisky isn’t appropriate food for a baby.”

He closed his mouth, thwarted.

Shaking her head, Chloe sat up and carefully picked up Nathaniel from Lucifer’s chest to feed him, while Lucifer snuggled up to her muttering about building up resistances early, and how beer used to be considered equivalent to bread in Ancient Egypt (“it’s even the same hieroglyph for both, my love”) so whisky, being sort of distilled beer, was even better, like super-bread.

Clearly, being the Devil’s Consort and the mother of the Antichrist and thus the only responsible adult around, she had her work cut out for her. And she was so looking forward to watching things unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry about this helping of distilled fluff. (No, not really.) I hope you liked it.


End file.
